


carried me with you

by gracethescribbler



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Is Also a Good Bro, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Major Character Injury, Protectiveness, So does Rex, ahsoka deserves better, i'm still bad at titles, the clones are good at taking care of everyone but themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracethescribbler/pseuds/gracethescribbler
Summary: Ahsoka is injured in an explosion, and Rex blames himself.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 2
Kudos: 105





	carried me with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyumia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyumia/gifts).



> Request for platonic Rexsoka where Ahsoka is injured and Rex feels guilty, and she reassures him it's not his fault.
> 
> Title is from the song by Brandi Carlile. :)

As soon as the troop transports docked in the  _ Resolute’s  _ hangar, Rex left the work of unloading the weapons and the wounded to Sergeant Appo, and rushed to the medical bay, although each step hurt. He’d been clipped in the leg, a blaster bolt scoring between the plastoid of his armor. But he didn’t want to slow down.

Entering the medbay a few minutes later, he looked around anxiously and then brushed aside the concerns of a junior medic when he caught sight of Kix washing his hands, a tired scowl on his face. Rex limped past occupied bunks to the senior medic, who glanced at him, straightened, and nodded.

“Captain,” he said. “She’s over there.”

“Is she okay?” Rex ran a hand through his damp hair, all-too-aware, suddenly, of the grime on his hands and armor, the sweat that stuck his blacks to his skin. Ordinarily he’d take at least the time for a sonic, Kix worked hard to keep the medbay as sanitary as possible. But he didn’t want to waste the time.

“She should be fine.” Kix was gentle, although he looked tired. Rex couldn’t imagine that Kix had reacted well to seeing their Commander hurt, although Kix had seen worse things in the past few years. But Ahsoka wasn’t often the injured party, and typically she was awake and sarcastic and fine enough, when Kix had to deal with her.

Rex couldn’t help a twinge of guilt. “Where is she?”

“She needs bacta. But,” Kix pointed, “she’s over there for now, she’s awake.”

Ahsoka was in a bunk somewhat separate from the others, in the corner of the medical bay, lying on her back under a blanket. Ordinarily, she would look annoyed at this situation - she and General Skywalker shared a contempt for staying still that was comical. But instead she just looked tired and pained, bandages covering her right arm and, he assumed, much of her torso. When she saw him, though, she tried to smile and waved her fingers at him loosely. “Hey, Rex.”

“Hey.” Rex let out a small sigh and pulled over a spare chair so he could sit down without disturbing her. “You okay, sir?”

“Yep.” Ahsoka was not a good liar, but it was nice that she was trying. “Don’t worry, Rex, Kix says I won’t even scar much.” She sighed, overly dramatic. “I would’ve liked a cool scar out of this, though.”

Rex snorted. “I’d be surprised if it  _ didn’t  _ scar, sir.”

She’d been burned all along her right side. Their plans had gone completely sideways - they were trying to take a Separatist outpost on Felucia, but intelligence said it was a poorly-defended outpost still under construction. Instead, they’d found themselves battered by heavy artillery that they weren’t prepared for. They were lucky to have won at all, and the casualties had been too high for such a small victory. When the shells started dropping, Rex’s reaction was too slow, and they lost a lot of brothers in the scramble to adjust.

And he’d been unable to get Ahsoka out of range of the explosions, so he’d had to pull her out when the blasts flung her to the ground. The medics had gotten her out and had her taken straight back to the  _ Resolute,  _ which was fortunate - she’d probably had a round of preliminary treatment already, and some pain medication.

Ahsoka grumbled a bit and shifted uneasily. “Well, I hope it does. What’s the point if it doesn’t?”

Rex shook his head, amused. She sounded like her Master, and like half the shinies in the battalion. Then he looked down and said, seriously, “I’m sorry you got hurt, Commander.”

“I’m fine,” she said, glibly, although she didn’t look fine. “I thought I just said not to worry.”

Rex smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She nodded, and winced, and looked away, so Rex sighed and pulled his chair closer to her. Better to try to distract her from the injury - bad burns were a bitch, and it was hard to ignore them. “Want me to tell you about something stupid Hardcase did last week?” he asked her, folding his hands and swallowing against a guilty feeling.

Looking relieved, Ahsoka jumped on the suggestion. “Obviously.”

“You know the deal, General Skywalker doesn’t hear about it.”

“I know, I know.”

She was lying. Rex knew that Ahsoka couldn’t resist telling the General any story she thought would impress him. But they all pretended they didn’t know it. He smiled, and started very seriously telling her how Hardcase had been attempting to jerryrig a hoverboard he’d found and had ended up crashing into a set of bunks with the hoverboard bursting into a shower of sparks under his feet.

He’d said, nonchalantly, “Almost got it, I think!”

Rex had put him on KP for two weeks and made him clean up the scorch marks on the floor.

Ahsoka laughed, although that seemed to hurt her, and it made Rex feel just a little better. He hoped it had helped.

Over the next few days, Ahsoka underwent a few stints in the bacta tanks and Kix kept her as comfortable as he could. Rex couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault, although Ahsoka was insistent that she was doing fine. He brought her notes from the  _ vode,  _ who were just as concerned as he was, despite reassurances that there would be no permanent damage (other than cosmetic). She had some nerve and muscle damage, and for the latter Kix ordered physical therapy, careful stretching, and  _ rest, Commander. _ As soon as she was able to get up, she kept trying to  _ leave, _ and so the medics were kept busy herding her back into her bunk and stopping her from over-exerting herself. Rex was called in multiple times to scold her and distract her enough to keep her from trying to walk.

One day, Rex came in to see Ahsoka and found her bunk empty and saw that Kix was nowhere to be found - the junior medics directed Rex towards a room off the main area of the medbay, where they said Kix was helping Ahsoka with some physical therapy. They told him this as if it was a warning, and Rex suspected that Ahsoka’s mood during physical therapy was less than sunny. He couldn’t help but be amused, but forged ahead into the room anyway.

He’d chosen the wrong day for it.

He walked into a dramatic tableau - Ahsoka had her hands in fists at her sides, her eyes flashing furiously, and was standing shakily on one leg. Kix also held his hands towards her palms out, talking very seriously, but Ahsoka’s voice was much louder than his.

“I can  _ do it,  _ Kix, just give me a minute!” She shifted a little and settled more weight on her other leg. “I’m  _ fine.” _

“Commander, we can do some of the simpler exercises,” Kix said, gently, stepping towards her. “We’ve made a lot of progress, but you’re pushing too much on this one.”

Ahsoka stepped back and shook her head. “Stop babying me. I’ve got this.”

“Commander.” Rex stepped further into the room, squaring his shoulders and trying to sound calm, although he felt equal parts guilty and sympathetic. Ahsoka whirled towards him, a wince twisting her expression, her posture defensive. The maneuver had clearly hurt.

“What?” she snapped.

Rex sighed, and walked closer to the two of them, catching a relieved glance from Kix. He folded his hands behind his back. “What’s going on?”

“Kix thinks I can’t do this,” she snarled, although there was a choked, burning frustration in her voice that almost made him think she was going to cry. “I have to get back out there, Rex, and I’m strong enough.” The statement was belied by the fact that she still wouldn’t quite put weight on her right leg, and held her right arm gingerly close to her side. Rex knew she was still in pain. But it would do no good to simply tell her she was wrong and try to force her to listen to Kix, so Rex was quiet for a moment, looking at her consideringly.

Then he sighed, and walked over to her, meeting her eyes. “Can I help?”

Ahsoka lifted her chin a little, and for a moment he thought she would refuse. But then she slumped a little, and nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

Kix still looked unsure, but it was a compromise, so he told Rex to support Ahsoka and help steady her while she stretched her leg. Ahsoka was tangibly shaky, but Rex didn’t say anything about it. She didn’t need to be told she couldn’t do this, least of all by him.

She was hurt because of his mistake, and he knew she was stuck in this position because of him, too. Ahsoka still seemed so frustrated, pain and anger sharp in her eyes, and despite Rex’s help, Kix’s exercises seemed a bit beyond her. The more frustrated Ahsoka grew, the more Rex felt responsible, and couldn’t quite look at her, until abruptly she swore, stopped, and leaned heavily against him, her face crumpling. She looked like she was struggling with something, and then, quietly, she admitted, “I’m done.”

Relieved, Rex sighed, and looked at Kix, who nodded gracefully and stepped back. “Alright, Commander. You did good today.”

Ahsoka nodded, reluctantly, and Kix wisely turned around and left. Rex stayed where he was, waiting for a cue from Ahsoka. Finally she rubbed her face, hard, and swallowed. “I want to be done.” She mustered a lopsided smile. “This is-” she sighed, “it hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex told her. He was.

“Why do you think this is your fault?” Ahsoka asked, abruptly, swiping at her eyes as if to dismiss the topic, and Rex cringed to himself. “I can feel it, remember, it’s like you’re blaming yourself.”

Rex sighed. “I’m not.”

At her dubious look, he corrected himself. “I’m not  _ really,  _ Commander, but you have to admit - if I’d noticed the trap, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Ahsoka looked at him for a moment with her eyes slightly narrowed, then leaned against him a little more for support and crossed her arms. “It wasn’t your fault, dumbass.”

Rex smiled slightly, although nothing felt funny. “Commander-”

“I mean it.” She elbowed him in the ribs and then shuffled away from him to sit down on a chair, talking over her shoulder. “This sucks, but it isn’t your fault it went wrong. I should’ve been paying more attention, too. And you’re the one who got me back to the medics - I know you would’ve kept me from getting hurt if you could’ve.”

Rex hesitated, then went to sit next to her, resting his forearms on his knees. It was true - they both were responsible for the men, but Rex had always felt that he was the one with more tactical experience, more military experience in general, so if someone should have recognized the problem it should’ve been him. But really… He also just couldn’t stand the idea of Ahsoka getting hurt because of him. The  _ vode  _ all knew they were more likely to die than not - it was part of their lives. But Ahsoka was different - Rex was determined that Ahsoka  _ would be _ different, and not have to live with the idea that she was going to die before she ever really got to do anything she wanted to. And it scared him that they could just lose her as easily as they could lose a brother. Maybe there was something wrong about thinking that way, but she wasn’t a soldier, and they all knew it. Even if she made a good commander. She deserved to get to do something more, eventually.

“You did the best you could. Hells, you’re right, maybe we both did. But I’m still sorry.”

Ahsoka grimaced. “Yeah. It’s shitty.” She shuddered and shifted a little, wincing. “But it’s not your fault, okay? I’m fine.” Ordinarily, that statement would sound like a lie, but Ahsoka fixed Rex with such a scolding look that he found himself believing her, and he tentatively smiled at her in response.

“Whatever you say, Commander.”

She rolled her eyes slowly and dramatically, then punched him in the arm and gingerly levered herself up from her chair, grimacing. “Help me to the mess, Captain,” she said, imperiously. “I want caf.”

Rex sighed and rolled his eyes, but obligingly put an arm around her to support most of her weight, and they shuffled off to the mess together. Rex did not particularly feel less guilty, but there was something comforting about Ahsoka’s determinedly normal behavior, and about her promise that she didn’t blame him. Still, he promised himself that he wouldn’t let it happen again. He knew his Commander wanted to see the stars as much as General Skywalker did, and Rex’s mistakes weren’t going to be the thing that kept her from that.


End file.
